Showing posts with label On Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label On Family. Show all posts

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Looking Back . . . My Photo Montage

MY NEW YEAR'S PROJECT


Photo montage in and around Detroit, the suburbs and Michigan...featuring the Detroit River and Lakes Michigan, Huron and Saint Clair; urban decay and the regeneration and renaissance of Detroit; the cycles and seasons of life - from winter to winter.
The montage, set to the music of Moby, includes photos of my family, my friends, my city, my state...including: legendary bike-builder: Ron Finch; guitar great: Jim McCarty; WRIF Radio Host: Big Daddy Arthur P; Mike Fasano (drums) with Jani Lane in concert at "Pine Knob;" local artist: Chris Kime; local club DJ: Adam Lenk...
The montage also includes places and events: The "Renaissance Center;" The River Walk - celebrating Detroit's 300th Birthday; The Belle Isle Bridge; The 2007 Detroit Belle Isle Grand Prix; Alice Cooper playing to his home town crowd at the Michigan State Fair; popular vacation spots: Caseville, Frankfort and Traverse City; The Trowbridge House - The oldest house in Detroit (post fire); The oldest church - Saints Peter and Paul; Dr Bob's Innate Cafe and Center for Holistic Healing; Campus Martius at Christmas time; Greenfield Village...
"TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON. A time to plant...a time to heal...a time to die...a time to weep...a time to laugh...a time to dance...a time to LOVE..."
Rest in Peace with GOD: Diana J. Lenk (my beautiful, loving mom) and Steven Michael Smith (my gentle, kind son-in-law)
PS To Detroiters, some things shall remain carved in stone...Hudson's, The Renaissance Center, Pine Knob, Tiger Stadium...they may change the signs but never our memories.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Definition of Precious

There are few events in life as precious and blessed as witnessing the sparkle of wonderment in a child's eyes.

My grandson, Nathan, is in his peak years of enchantment - he is eight years old. I don't think there is another time in one's life when the world is that magical, purely unprejudiced and openly awaiting discovery. A time when spider webs and fossil-like rocks are the coolest, most awesome finds; when superman ice cream is the best food in the world; and when press credentials bearing T.rex's photo - purchased at a souvenir kiosk - can grant our entrance into worlds beyond our imaginations.

About a week and a half ago, Nathan and I took a trip back in time . . . way back . . . about 250 million years.

We picked up our tickets at the window and a couple of hot dogs at the snack bar. We sat, eating while watching the clock. At 6:00 pm, we gathered some bottles of water and snacks in preparation for the journey ahead. With travel brochures in hand and our hearts thumping a little louder, we took our seats and waited. I took a couple of flash photos before our journey took us back to a time long before digital photography was invented.

Before long, most of the seats were taken up by anxious time-travelers such as ourselves. Strobe lights began flashing and a voice came over the loud speakers: "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, please take your seats . . . will begin in ten minutes."

Nathan's face lit even up brighter and he turned to me, "Thank you, Gammy!!!!! Thank you so much! You're the best Gammy!"

I couldn't have been any higher with bliss then in that moment.

Before long, the first dinosaur of the Triassic Period came out from behind the huge teeth that acted as a portal between our two worlds.

The sounds of these magnificent and mysterious creatures, as well as their commanding and majestic presence, swallowed our senses whole. For one night, there was nothing else except Nathan, the dinosaurs and me. I was completely immersed in the present moment of an ancient past.

That was the night of 200 million years. That was night Nathan and I walked with dinosaurs.



Walking With Dinosaurs

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Remember Me . . . By Lizzie Palmer (age 16)

This needs no introduction - no words - just watch . . . (5:23)




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ervaMPt4Ha0

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

The Elders of our Family Tribe


My Uncle Leonard celebrated his 80th birthday over this past weekend. He celebrated for the first time without his twin, Richard, who recently passed away. But the rest of the family gathered around him for Polish food, cake, ice cream and piñata fun.
Below are the remaining patriarchs of my family: My father, Jim; his brother Leonard; his brother-in-law Ted - who will turn 85 on his next birthday; and Uncle David, the youngest brother.

The matriarchs (all except one, my father's sister, Wanda who lives in Savannah) have left this world for a better one - one free of pain, sadness and hardship.

Things are different these days . . . something is missing . . . but I can always look at my own hands to remember the story of the women of my family, for my hands tell the story that has been passed down for generations. For women, our hands, not our faces, tell the real story. (like the quote reads at the end of the latest posting on Sacred Footing)

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

The Summer's Last Hurrah

Here in Michigan, we talk about the weather a lot . . . but usually the conversations are about the freezing temperatures . . . when is this cold spell going to end, we need rain, we need it to stop raining, no more snow, please . . . but over the Labor Day weekend the talk about town was how absolutely perfect the weather was and has been. Clear, blue skies, sunny and hot, temps in the mid to upper eighties. The Labor Day holiday weekend in Detroit is always celebrated with many great city and family events. We Michiganders mourn the ending of the summer season (and begin dreading the colder months ahead) by partying all we can. Here in the Motor City we LOVE to party and being blessed with this beautiful weather in September only added to our celebratory spirit.

I tried to fit in all that I could, but not nearly everything, for that would have been impossible. I did not make it to the Jazz Festival (read Erik's Blog) or the Arts, Beats and Eats Festival or the Romeo Peach Festival . . . but I did get to Belle Isle for the Grand Prix qualifying races on Friday. The roar of those engines is such an adrenalin rush. We rode out to Belle Isle with legendary Bike Builder (Discovery Channel's Biker Build Off winner) Ron Finch. We hung around with Big Daddy Arthur P. from WRIF. Anyone who has lived in Detroit during the past 30 more years has heard Arthur's voice, "Baby!" on the radio. On the ride back we stopped off in Hamtramk for the Polish Festival to grab some food . . . pierogis, city chicken, potato pancakes, stuffed cabbage, kraut, and of course, the firefighters famous chili (not Polish but a tradition nonetheless).
Family gatherings and birthdays filled Saturday and Sunday . . . and I ended the long weekend with the Alice Cooper concert at the Michigan State Fair on Monday. Alice, another one of Detroit's homeboys, comes home every year to perform a free concert at the State Fair. He still rocks - he sang for two hours.

So, after a day of recovering - yesterday - it's back to the daily grind (or not). But, the weather . . . well, the weather is still absolutely beautiful and I'm soaking in all of this ninety degree heat before the blue skies open to gray and the autumn chill fills the air.


Crossing the Belle Isle Bridge
The gang at the Grand Prix on Belle Isle

One of the qualifying races


Detroit icons Ron Finch and WRIF's Arthur P.

Luke and his 'big' sister Alexia at the Labor Day birthday parties

Nathan (my grandson) practicing his basketball skills at the family bbq

Adam making a beer run before the Alice Cooper concert begins

The best I could do as the night fell over the crowd

Luke, Rich and Adam placing their bets

My friend Debbie, her daughter Zoe and me (back to my brown)
at the Michigan State Fair

Monday, September 03, 2007

Happy Birthday Adam


Wow, so many Virgo birthdays in my family! Yesterday we celebrated my niece / Goddaughter Melissa's birthday (pictured above with Adam) and today is my son,
Adam's 22nd birthday.
I named him Adam because he was the first male into my maternal side of the family in a couple of generations. I have three sisters - no brothers. My mom had two sisters - no brothers. And my first child was a daughter, Alexia. So, when Adam came around, he was ADAM, without a doubt. The story is much more mystical than that - but I'll leave it at the simple explanation for now, for Adam knows he chose his name and me as his mother.

Adam, you are a wonderful man, a fantastic son, and a great friend. I truly enjoy your company and our conversations, even though they get heated sometimes, as we are worthy debate opponents.

You came to me before you were born - I knew you were coming long before you arrived. People thought I was crazy - but we proved them wrong - because out you came and here you are. I always knew you came with a clear purpose. You have struggled with knowing that purpose - I understand more than you know. You will do it all one day, but for now, enjoy your youth, your life and your music. You have talent, abilities, intelligence and knowledge beyond most people's grasp. From the time you made campaign signs around the house for Dukakis and you cried when Bush Sr. won (you were two or three) to the time you won the Invent America Contest (all on your own, I might add) for your school in first grade (and gave a speech about your passion - The RecycleMobile) to the time you switched your political views to the Republican party (then, back to Democratic party again!) - You have never ceased to amaze me! Your first word (well almost) was "Why?" "Why is the sky blue, mama? Why is the moon full, mama?" . . . You had a fascination with space and stars and UFO's (even saw one with Grandma) and also with the Eiffel Tower and Statue of Liberty . . . "Mama, is that as big at the Eiffel Tower?" "Is a dinosaur as big as the Eiffel Tower?" You loved architecture (you taught me all about the streets of Detroit and showed me the beautiful, historical Art Deco buildings) at a very young age and, as a child you stacked every Matchbox car you had as high as you could to make a tower. You also knew everything about cars, even at two years old! You adored Henry Ford. It blew my mind. You also had a passion for history, especially the history of the United States of America. I used to joke with you that you were one of the founding fathers reincarnated. (Well, not completely joking ;)

As your mother, I know I sound biased, and of course I am, but you know I have never been the type of mother who patronizes her children - I hate being patronized so I would never do that to any of you. I have always been honest to a fault - I have expected a lot, especially from you because I knew you had it in you. I never let you slide - I never let you off the hook easily.
No two people are alike and therefore, no two children are alike - so as a mother I mothered you each in a way unique to each one of your needs. I always felt you needed me to be a rock - an unwavering, strong force in your life . . . and a lighthouse to guide you in when you needed to wander off on your own and when you needed comfort.

Grandma was with me the day you entered this world. You were the strongest baby the doctors had ever seen. You flipped over the moment you were placed in the bassinet after birth - telling the world they could kiss your...! We all laughed. You have not changed much - your are still strong, determined and, yes, a bit arrogant at times! But you know that.

You are a born leader - and your blessing is your curse - be careful with your power and your gifts - here I go again, trying to guide you - the man!
Whatever you decide to do in life, I will support your decision - I know you will invite me to Amsterdam to watch you create and mix music at your opening of a trendy club, or you will invite me to a dinner in the country for which you are the Ambassador or Minister of
Foreign Affairs . . . or something to that tune or the other. Keep on with the doing . . .

I love you so much and I am so proud of you. I can't believe I am so blessed for you are my son, my Adam. Happy Birthday

Creating and mixing music for Luke's graduation party

Adam took me to a Tiger's game in May


Signing Alexia and Steve's wedding guest book

Out to dinner with Luke and family

Above, Adam mixing his unique blend of house and techno at 5th Avenue in Royal Oak

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Happy Birthday Dad














Happy Birthday Dad.



We give you a lot of credit - raising four daughters! (sister Judi pictured below)
All those hormones . . .
curling iro
ns, maxi-pads, strawberry lip gloss kisses, rebel boyfriends, rides to and from the rollerskating rink, money lending, heartbreaks and tears, marriages, grandchildren, divorces (speaking for myself only!) the list goes on!
You were a
gorgeous young man (still are gorgeous!) with black hair and baby blue eyes . . . strong and athletic - on your way to a possible career in pro baseball. An excellent golfer and bowler. You gave up your dreams (and your brand new Chevy convertible) for us at the tender young age of 20 years old.

You were a strict father (making us strong) and you expected a lot from us.
You showed us how to do everything and because of that we are extremely independent women. We can do everything from laying tile and sod . . . to changing a tire and our oil. We know the difference between a standard and a Phillips . . . and a gear or socket wrench from needle nose pliers.
Now, with mom gone, you have become our official chicken soup maker - the Polish panacea. But you still need us for pierogi.
Happy Birthday Dad. We love you. Thanks for all you have done for us, all you have sacrificed and all you have taught us.

Alexia and Grandpa at Alexia's wedding

Luke and Grandpa caught in the rain after the
graduation ceremony at Freedom Hill

Adam, Lisa, Luke, dad, Alexia, Marcie, Judi, Aunt Pam, me
on March 15 -remembering mom on what was her birthday

Dad and Aunt Pam - my mom's little sister at cousin Jon's wedding

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Expected Disasters of the Ordinary Kind

(Updated 8-26-07 at the bottom of this post)

Don’t call these “acts of God” because God is not the One who is destroying our Earth mother.

Don’t call these “natural disasters.” Because how can anything of a destructive, catastrophic nature be looked upon as something to be expected and accepted . . . as something that is normal and ordinary?

That is, unless, we as human beings, are fundamentally stupid. That is unless we, as human beings, are merely apathetic cells that are combining in cancerous mass and killing our most vital living organ - the very much alive planet Earth - that generously and abundantly sustains our human lives, allowing us to experience the life God gave us. But, I know in my heart we are better than this. I know we can do better than this.

So, the furies of storms and tornadoes that created a path of destruction in parts of Michigan last night and the forest fires that raged in Southern Greece ending 44 human lives are all something of our doing. We are responsible for the illness of our fading planet.

I wrote about prayers of healing in my previous post . . . and I feel it necessary we come together in a collective effort and pray for the healing of our planet while actively doing what we can to stop and reverse the damage we have already done. We need vigilance, diligence and impeccability at this most critical and final hour . . . these which could be her last breaths.

The AP photo above was taken by Petros Giannakouris of an iconostasis in the Greek village of Kato Samika, about 200 miles south of Athens. An iconostasis is a small church-like building - ‘icon’ means holy image or symbol, and ‘stasis’ means a stop – as place to stop and say a prayer, to reflect, to pause on the busy path of daily life and show gratitude to God. (The walkways throughout Greece have thousands of iconostasis - each is an oasis of hope)

Please hold the healing of our living planet Earth
in your hearts and prayers


Also in the news today it was revealed that Mother Theresa struggled with her faith. Why is that so shocking? How does that come as such a surprise?

Mother Theresa was human like the rest of us. If she never had doubt, if she never felt the pains of despair and hopeless, if she lived a life without personal turmoil and strife . . . she would have not lived an honest life. She would not have been real. The fact that she had doubt - great doubt at times - and yet never gave up or gave in is the true testament to what faith, perseverance, selflessness and love can conquer.





8-26-07 UPDATE ON FIRES IN GREECE: The fires, which are now ravaging half of the country for the past three days, have ended 51 human lives and are quickly spreading - consuming
more than a mile in only three minutes - due, especially, to the strong August winds. The fires are racing toward the village of Ancient Olympia and the 2,500 year old Temple Of Apollo in Epikourios. There are hundreds of fires - all believed to be intentionally set (some people have already been detained regarding their involvement). This is a catastrophe of biblical proportions threatening to destroy most of present day Greece and her people . . . while also threatening to leave the preserved ruins of antiquity in a charred state of ruin beyond recognition.
Among the burned remains of bodies found in cars, along roads and in fields was a mother hugging her four children.
This is a news story. But for me it is also a personal story. Having lived in Greece and having friends and family living in Greece, and having walked the land that is being swallowed up by flames . . . it is a very personal story for me.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

A Moment of Healing




This very moment is about healing.

It is not an International Day of Healing, (although that is a beautiful thought) it is about this moment and taking this moment to think about ourselves and the people with whom we have come into contact with: family, friends, acquaintances, passersby, friends of friends . . . fellow bloggers (especially Jon and Maleah) . . . and sending out powerful prayers of healing.

Maybe you or someone you know (or know of) has suffered a loss . . . a death of a loved one, an illness, surgery, unhealed scars from past traumas . . . pray for healing and comfort and peace.


Take a moment
a moment right here, right now
close your eyes
inhale slowly and deeply
exhale slowly and completely
bow your head
in what way do you need to be healed?
who (in your life) needs healing?
ask God, the Universe, a Higher Power
to surround you and those people in a white light
open yourself up to the healing energy
ask for healing in specific areas
and ask to healed in any and all ways
unspecific and unknown

give thanks for your many blessings



Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Sometimes life . . .




"Mom . . . Steve died"





The middle-of-the-night voice on the other end of the phone; my daughter.


I didn't quite understand.

"What? Steve who?"
"My Steve!"

Her Steve, Nathan's daddy, my son-in-law.

Steve died while sleeping in his brother's chair. The irony of it: his brother lives in their childhood home - the same house Steve and his twin brother, Robert were brought home from the hospital as newborns . . . and the very same house that his twin brother died of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) . . . in his sleep. Steve never let go of his connection with his twin brother. Their bond was mysteriously strong. I feel in my heart that Steve never felt deserving of life - a life he felt Robert was robbed of as an infant.

I will always remember Steve's kind and generous heart, his infectious smile, his love of music and cooking and animals (especially his dog Zeus who died some years before) and his love of sleep! Like Nathan said, "At least daddy is doing what he loved to do - sleep!" Though he so enjoyed spending time with his friends - and he had many - he also valued his moments of quietness, solitude and contemplation. I will miss his big, warm hugs, the way he said, "I love you, mom," and the loving dinners he cooked for me. I miss Steve.

I have so much I want to say, but the words just won't release themselves from the tight grip of my heart.

Steven Michael Smith died on June 9, 2007 . . . at the age of Christ; thirty-three.
This past Friday, August 10, 2007 would have been his thirty-fourth birthday.

Sometimes life . . . insert sentiments here


Wednesday, August 08, 2007

The Family Tree - When the leaves fall and all that's left is a song


One of my oldest proven ancestors on my maternal grandfather's side was a man by the name of Stefan Nicolaides (which means 'sons of the victory people' in Greek). He was born in 1743, possibly in Hungary and moved to Kameral Ellgoth, Austria in 1782. There, he became the first Lutheran pastor and founded a chapel - which was later enlarged to a church - and wrote the church's parish history. He also built a parsonage (in essence, his home), a house for the sexton and a school. After serving as pastor for twenty-six years, he died at the age of sixty-five in 1808.

Stefan's eldest child, a son, Karl Josef (born in 1780) married a (polish?) girl, Sophia Kordiak and they had three children: Rosa (November 10, 1808), Henry (June 13, 1813) and Alexander (October 22, 1815).

Many letters were written by Sophia to (her son) Henry and by Rosa to (her brother) Henry. They were kept by Henry, preserved by his son, William, then translated from Gothic German to English around 1967.

The following is a letter that was written by Rosa (Mrs. Thomas Wodiczkal) to Henry on October 17 in 184? (Due to historical time lines the year was probably sometime between 1852 -1855). Rosa had received word that Henry left the army (due to illness) and emigrated to America with his new wife, Maria Josepha Tacchini (whom he met while stationed in Milan, Italy).


(The original letter)

Dear good brother,

I feared you were dead! I can only expect death, which seems to follow me. I am so lost, with my poor children.

You know we were in Pest (Budapest) during the Revolution (Began early 1848-1849 - Russia joined with Austria to crush the Hungarians). My dear unforgettable husband described the whole Revolution to you. After that we were transferred back to Gross Karuly. My husband became an official then we were happy, knowing life would be better for us. But suddenly my husband got an acute inflammation of the bowels. After a day and a half he passed away despite all the efforts made to save his life. I buried him four years ago, in July.

I wrote you three letters but never received an answer. After that I wrote to Mr. Killia. He wrote that I should write to you and send it to him; he would try to forward it to you. He also wrote that you are well off and also healthy.

I've had a very hard time with my poor children. Winter will soon be here and I don't have suitable clothing for them. I, alone, cannot make enough money for all of us. Everything is very expensive here; a loaf of bread costs four gulden, a basket of fruit - thirty florins, corn - twenty florins, one egg - four xr (coins), one pound of butter - twenty-four grapfin.

You can well imagine my position after the death of my dear husband. No money and no bread. I was very ill and too weak to walk. I wrote to Trempfin, to Wagner and Langa asking for help, and also my husband's mother and brothers. No one answered.

If only I could send my Emerich (Rosa's son Henry) to you. He could help you on the farm, and he would love to come. I want to send him now to learn a trade. Ludwig and Karl (Rosa's other sons) are still in school. They will have a hard time this winter because they have no winter clothing.

Day before yesterday my employer called for me, saying he had very pleasant news for me, and he gave me a letter from Wagner in Pest (Budapest).

Dear brother, if we could walk over the wide ocean to you, we would do so. I feel I could die easier if only I could see you again. We haven't seen each other for such a very long time; it hurts me for us to be so very far apart. I would love to talk with you and also to complain about my problems. are you truly happy in America, dear brother? Wagner writes that you are homesick for your homeland. Farewell, dear brother, and many greetings to you all. We kiss you many times. Truly yours,

Rosa.

I await your answer with great longing.
I send many kisses, write soon.


I don't know what happened to Rosa after that . . . Henry and his wife landed in New York (in 1846). Their first child, a daughter, Sophia Eugenia died in New York in 1847. They moved to New Jersey, then to Pennsylvania where William (1848), then Henry (1849) were born. They left Pittsburgh, traveled down the Ohio River to Mississippi, then down the Arkansas River to Little Rock where they settled in Pulaski County, Arkansas. They remained there during the Civil War - while Arkansas was under martial law. All of Little Rock became a military base camp; with a huge hospital and a prison for captured Confederate soldiers. The territory was swept by raiders, supply scouts, guerrilla forces and troops of both sides. Banks became unsafe, stagecoaches ceased and private transportation did not exist. Ex-guerrillas became bandits and Indians reverted to savagery. The southern people were starving - Living in Little Rock became very expensive. Sometimes supper was a corn pone, carefully divided to give each a share. Life in the America suddenly became very difficult.

The Nicolaides family eventually settled down on farm in Caney Creek, Union County, Illinois where Henry (pitured below) died on December 28, 1879.




And just when I thought my life had become difficult!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Follow The Rabbit-Proof Fence - And Another Landmark To Follow

For nine weeks and 1,500 miles, three young Aboriginal Australian girls followed a rabbit-proof fence (originally constructed to prevent rabbit infestation) to route their return home to Jigalong. In 1931, the girls were removed from their parents and taken to the Moore River Native Settlement, as part of the Stolen Generation. (From 1915 to 1969 the Australian Government made Aboriginal children wards of the State, denying all parental rights and sending the children to Internment Camps and orphanages where many were adopted out to white families.)

In 1996, Doris Pilkington Garimara, the daughter one of the three girls, Molly Craig, wrote a book about her mother's ordeal; "Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence." The 2002 film directed by Phillip Noyce, "Rabbit-Proof Fence," is based on that book. The film, visually stunning, presents a story of courage, perseverance and love in a quietly powerful way - without unnecessary dialog, overwhelming despair or tearful manipulations. It is one of my favorite movies.



So, what brought all of this on - talking about a movie that is five years old - the good news that came over the BBC yesterday: Bruce Trevorrow, a fifty-year-old Aboriginal man who was taken from his family as a baby was awarded A$525,000 compensation, a judgment delivered by Justice Thomas Gray in the landmark case. The Supreme Court of South Australia found that Mr. Trevorrow was treated unlawfully when taken from his family in 1958 and put into foster care with a white family. Justice Gray established that the taking of a child from his or her family in these such circumstances was wrongful imprisonment. This is the first time that a child from the "Stolen Generation" has been recognized as having been unlawfully imprisoned due to the Australian Government assimilation policies from 1915-1969.

"I thought that we would never get there," Bruce Trevorrow said. "But the day's come when I've got the peace of mind to start my life." The judgment alone took eighteen months to be delivered.

Although, outside of the court, he also said it was not possible to put a dollar value on the pain he had endured.




For more information on the movie: Rabbit-Proof Fence
For more on Australia's Aboriginal People and The Stolen Generation

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Happy Birthday, Luke

My Lessons as a Mother
To my firstborn, my daughter Alexia, I gave her the dreams I dreamed
To my second born, my son Adam, I gave him directions on how to dream
To my third born, my son Luke, I gave him a white canvas and a brush


My baby is eighteen today! I know he would cringe at the "baby" part of that . . . but, nevertheless, he is my youngest child of three . . . and eighteen years ago today, he came into this world with the courage and strength of the lion he is. He has been with me through a lot - the many major changes in my life - and he has taught me so much about life . . . acceptance, patience, kindness, honesty . . . He is very wise for his years. Happy Birthday, Luke. I love you!


















Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Dee Dee's Fab Four - AKA "The Four Corners"


















May 25, 2007 marked the third anniversary of my mother's early departure from this life. And although we miss her more than words can express, my three sisters and I choose to honor and celebrate her life by taking our annual three-day trip to her favorite spot, Frankfort, in Northern Michigan.


My dad came with us in 2005; the first year we went. That's the year we took some of mom's ashes and scattered them into Lake Michigan from the Frankfort Pier. We even put some in a little boat with a tea light candle and set her off to Sea, as she always loved the idea of a Viking Funeral.


Last year was the year we had a bench dedicated in her name. It sits on th
e beach, with others like hers, looking out to the lake and the lighthouse just as she always loved to do.

This year was a quieter year. We were out of ritual, except for the trip itself and
the Margarita toast at the moment of her passing . . . and the burning of a bundle of sage around the bench.
I guess we are creatures of habit . . . ceremony . . . ritual. But, my sisters and I are also party creatures! We know how to have a good laugh (mom taught us well!) - but, what goes on in Traverse City, stays in Traverse City!